You...
by BatThing
Summary: Ok, this story is awfully written, and I mean it! i couldn't find the right ending, so if anyone out there wants to tell me a better one, please dooooo!


Disclaimer: I do not own any Batman characters. DC Comics and Kids WB holds all rights. Bob Kane created The Batman, and he is in charge of it. Thanks you all for reading!! Questions or comments, Email me at BatthingII@hotmial.com  
  
Rating: Probably PG to PG-13, if that even!  
  
Short Sum-Up: Robin is going through a slight crisis, and he has to overcome it.  
  
Warning: This story, like all of mine, clash with Batman Beyond, so I thought I would tell you that. This is "The New Batman Superman Adventures" story. But hey, to all BB fans, I am sorry if you take offence. So forgive me for that. You guys can feel free to read!  
  
**There might be a few mistakes, or stupid parts, but bear with me. I am kinda in a bad mood, we know how that goes! I was just looking over the different Batman sites and wondering… about…s-t-u-f-f. Like, why can't I WRITE like all the others? Some people are just soooo good, then there are those who don't need to be good and can catch you 'cause their story has a good plot. Ok, Ok, *snickers*, I'll shut up now so you can read**  
  
1 You…  
  
1.1 By: The Batthing  
  
"I hope to lose myself for good, I hope to find it in the end, yet not in me, in you. It's all I know… There's always something in the way, there's always something getting through, and it's not me, it's you. Its you…" –Switchfoot 'You'  
  
I crawled slowly onto the bed, grasping the sheets firmly in my crunched together fists. My head smothered into the pillow as I sobbed a lonely cry. My head rubbed against the pillow slowly, and my body racked from the cries and fear. I gasped for breaths as my grasp on the sheets tightened painfully. It-was-all-my-fault. No one could do or say anything to prove otherwise, though they had tried.  
  
I let out a shaken breath, trying to gather myself, trying to make my sounds of sorrow and pain lighter. No one should see me like this, not anyone. I looked up slowly, raising my head to a slight angel, and licked my lips, tasting the strong salty tears, which flowed down my checks, creating tear streaks. The blurred clock read 1:57, and I went into another short faze of the cruel sob wreaking humility.  
  
Scenes still were burned into my mind, and I felt them. I saw them. They made such a commotion of wanting to be reviled that I had a splitting headache. I didn't want to think about it, and that's all I could do. I saw her face, and I saw her mother, father, brother, and sister.  
  
I shoved my face into the pillow and bit into the fabric, trying to soften my loud sounds of worthlessness. I didn't deserve to be here, lying on this bed, alive. She should have been alive and because of me she didn't make it to see another sun rise, to fell the wind on her face, or to just stand out in the night, letting her thoughts go free. Instead all she could do was lay there, broken, bleeding, dead.  
  
She had a loving family who needed her. She had so much to offer. She needed to live, and had a reason, unlike I. I should have died, I should have fallen and left this world, not her! People loved her, and she loved them. Now, because of me, not only she died, but also part of her family died with her.  
  
I sobbed louder, and tried to control it, for tomorrow at school, I would face my friends, my classmates. They would mourn over her, and I would be the cause. If only I had helped her the instant she needed it, she would go to school, and get the A's, and she would be picked on, she would then go home to her loving family and regain her status.  
  
Life was so unfair, and I hated it, I hated it all!  
  
************************************* ******************** ****  
  
The wind hit hard, causing the slight burn on the left side of my face. 'There was no doubt it would be another hard night at the trenches. The whole city was in that mood where no one cared about anything but getting home, and that meant someplace, somewhere. Someone was taking advantage of someone else. Oh how heroic of a though!' I told myself as I crouched beside Nightwing, eyes scanning the dark city all around me.  
  
Nightwing cocked his head at nothing, probably just for a change of position, which we longed for. "This could go slow tonight…"  
  
"Yeah." I replied dryly with a low nod of my head, there was nothing more to say or do, so I remained in silence, finding it comforting.  
  
Nightwing released a hard out sigh, and then pushed his shoulders back, allowing for a splitting crack. He then rolled them back, and let loose another hard brought sigh. He was obviously bored.  
  
For the last three weeks we had nothing come up, nothing big, and it was driving me crazy. I had heard the saying the calm comes before the storm, well, it's true. I knew as well as the others did to hate the silence of the city. It meant only that trouble was taking place, or about to take place.  
  
"Lets head back… nothing is here." Nightwing slowly as he stood, stretching slightly, causing a slight blockage of the wind.  
  
I stood also, without more than a sigh and a short nod of response to my friend. The two of us made our way to Gotham Central, and on a short supply of time. There, we took a short scan of the surrounding area and found nothing, soon coming to a small apartment building site.  
  
Nightwing smiled as me as walked slowly atop the building's roof, finding something amusing.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
He shook his head not answering.  
  
"WHAT!?"  
  
"Well, your look when we came here. I know you dread it, but dude!"  
  
I gave a shrug, choosing not to reply to him. He was being stupid.  
  
Nightwing lifted a hand and placed it on my shoulder. "Hey man-n, hee-hee, I'm here-smirft- for you!" He couldn't contain his laughter and allowed it to freely come rolling out.  
  
"Dude, stop!"  
  
He nodded and held a straight face, then heaved a long and annoying sigh. "So. Lets head home."  
  
I stood in a record pace, and leapt off the building. Yet as my head was raised a man stood in front of me, pointing a gun towards my head. He was obviously drunk, or had been, he was in no listing mood that was for sure.  
  
"Don't move unless you favor death!"  
  
I frowned and then sprung into the air, right foot hitting him in the jaw, knocking him down. I drew a sharp breath. "Don't try me tonight bud."  
  
A aimed a shot and fired, yet it missed me simply, and a yell rung out. The door flung open from another house, and I watched as a girl around my age sailed into her yard. "What's going on?!"  
  
I recognized her, April Lions, a girl from my school who was unpopular, a loser, a nerd...just GREAT!  
  
"Get in the house April, we got us a robber, an ordinary thief!" the man hissed aiming at me.  
  
"I am NOT a criminal!"  
  
"Dad, put down the gun!" The girl yelled clinging to the gate, which separated her from us.  
  
I nodded, "listen to her, or you'll be sorry."  
  
The man laughed. "Call the police honey!"  
  
The girl nodded. "But don't shot hi-."  
  
I jumped at the man, trying to knock the gun from his hands, yet as I hit the gun, causing the man's finger to slip, hitting the trigger. The loud shot fired free, and rung loud, splinted apart only by a scream of pain.  
  
I froze and knew very well what happened.  
  
The man dropped his gun and screamed like a mad man, running to the house. "APRIL!"  
  
I slowly turned, and saw it, falling to my knees, letting out a grunted assortment of sounds, trying to gain sanity.  
  
"SOMEONE HELP!" The man screamed out in a helpless manner.  
  
Nightwing glided off the roof and landed in a crouch behind me, still hidden to the few people who scattered about in the small alley, coming from outside their houses.  
  
"April, no, no, no, no" the man repeated.  
  
I heard the door to the house swing open and a woman scream, then begin to bawl. "She's not dead, Herb, SHE IS NOT DEAD!" The woman ran to her daughter and then slapped her husband as he pulled her away as she sobbed over the girl who was covered in blood, the girl who I had killed. "NO!"  
  
Nightwing grabbed me by the shoulders. "GET UP ROBIN!" He pulled me up and forced me into a wall. "STOP IT!"  
  
I shook my head breathing hard not listening, almost ready to fall down.  
  
"Robin!" He shoved his head next to mine. "Tim listen to me." He whispered in a low voice. "Gather yourself, we need to get HOME!"  
  
I nodded then gasped in another breath as I heard more screams of pain and sorrow split the air.  
  
******** *****************************************************  
  
"Did you hear the news Tim?" Scott Summers questioned as he came up to my locker with wide eyes.  
  
I looked blankly at him, knowing what he was about to say, and getting myself ready for it. "What?"  
  
"April Lions, you know her? She was killed last night by her father accidentally." Scott hissed as he shook his head. "Too bad…"  
  
I nodded closing my locker with hallow eyes. "I-I know. I heard from TV, this morning."  
  
Scott ignored my reply. "I feel bad for all those times we picked on her, I mean, dude, this makes me feel awful!"  
  
"I know."  
  
Scott rambled on as we made our way down the hall. I remained silent watching all the people around us talking about it, talking about her. We even passed by a group of her friends who were sobbing with each other.  
  
"Scott, I-I." I moved my mouth not saying speaking. "Have to go, see you in English."  
  
Scott cocked his head. "Right man, later!" He waved as I fled down the hall to the closest bathroom.  
  
As I slammed open the door and went into a stall, crouching beside the toilet ready to throw-up, I heard the announcements come on.  
  
"All students report to the auditorium for a meeting."  
  
I crumpled to the ground and rocked on my heels, slowly breathing. I cursed Bruce for making me come to school today.  
  
I raised my hand, looking oddly at it. Then I slammed it into my face, allowing it to hit hard, and burn my skin in pain. I deserved it, that and more.  
  
*********** *************************************************  
  
"You- I DON'T, HOW THE HECK DID THIS HAPPEN?!" Bruce yelled as he paced in front of me.  
  
I shook my head, still dressed in my Robin apparel, yet my mask was off.  
  
He stopped pacing and glared at me.  
  
"I don't, I don't know!"  
  
He shook his head frowning deeply. "Tim, how could you manage to do this?"  
  
"I didn't mean to, it was an accident." I told him as my voice cracked. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Sorry isn't going to bring that little girl back to life. Sorry isn't going to repair all the emotional pain you inflicted on her family. Sorry isn't going to cut it!" His words were like a blow to my face, and I took it all in a falling form. "This is all my fault, thinking you were ready for this." He growled in a low voice.  
  
"Bruce- no, I-."  
  
He shook his head. "Go to bed." He turned his back on me, and went deep into the shadows.  
  
I just stood not understanding.  
  
******** *****************************************************  
  
I made my way into the auditorium, head hanging, and eyes shifting, trying to find a familiar face. Scott was surrounded by some of our friends, leaving not a seat open, so I sat in the back by a few teachers.  
  
People all around were crying or whispering. Some losers and jerks were just playing around. I listened to the principal who stood ion stage.  
  
"All of you have heard, most likely, that April Lions was shot last night and died instantly." He paused, searching the crowd. "It is a tragic thing, and proves how unstable life is. April was a girl who stood up to those who poked fun at people who were different, and she helped those who needed it. April held all A's and was in many social activities. I understand that she had many friends, and though I never knew the girl all that much, what I did know was that she was a good person, and I wish we could all stand like she did."  
  
I put my head into my hands, and began to take deep breaths. Trying to control it all. Yet it seemed to want to fee itself from me, and I too wished it to be gone, yet I could not do so. It was like a sickness that needed the right treatment, or could not pass. The only problem was that this was a rare sickness.  
  
"TIM DRAKE!"  
  
I sat up in a flash, looking at the teacher who had called out my name sternly.  
  
"Have some respect and listen to what is being said. A girl from your class just died, it is not something to fall asleep during!" She snapped in an annoyed and angered way.  
  
I nodded. "I know." Then moved my eyes to the principal who still spoke of her. Today would be torture…  
  
  
  
I sat alone, on the couch, tossing both feet back and forth, watching their rhythmic strides as if they were of some type of importance. It was 7:30, and I awaited nothing more than bedtime. The part of the day where I could at least forget some of the past, though it haunted me in my dreams, it wasn't real.  
  
The light 'clinck, clinck, clinck' of the moving hand did some good for my unsettled stomach, which performed an array of flip-flops. I turned my head as a knock sounded on my door. It was a slight knock, telling me that it was Dick, in for a talk. Even though I had been living here only half a year, I had learned the familiar sounds and their meanings.  
  
"Come on in." I called in a monotone. I didn't care for conversation, but it might lead him to think I was being a baby and crying. So I gave him the privilege of coming in.  
  
The door pushed open and Dick entered, smiling slightly at me. "Hey Tim, what's up?"  
  
"Nothing much, just thinking… what are you doing here anyway? You never come here."  
  
He gave a shrug and coughed. "I came to talk with you."  
  
"Gee, thanks… I guess."  
  
He shrugged once more, taking a seat at my desk, smiling a stupid fake smile, showing his not wanting to be here. "So, you still on the down low over the girl?"  
  
"Who wouldn't be Dick?"  
  
"You have a point man. But I was hoping you might tell me about how you feel."  
  
"Lower than hell."  
  
He winced at my words and language. "Ok, now we are headed somewhere." With those few words he stood and stretched. "SO, now that I know how you feel, you wanna hear a story?"  
  
I shrugged, not meeting his eyes.  
  
"Once I caused the death of kid younger than me. I mean, I was 15 years old and this little boy was with him mom and dad and he got caught up with some kidnappers, and to make a long story short- I failed at saving him in time. It was because I had taken my time in getting there, I had dawdled about and because of that Batman didn't get the back up he so dearly needed. I had a time recovering from it, and at that time, there was no older Robin to help me cope."  
  
I smirked slightly, trying to give him some credit. "Yeah, yet this kid wasn't someone you knew."  
  
"Does that matter? I felt awful, I wouldn't eat, couldn't sleep… Tim, some times you have to come to grips with the fact that you cant always please him. You can't always be the perfect little Robin you have built up in your mind. At least you were not stupid like me and did what you wanted to do, instead of what " 


End file.
